


Lockdown

by bouncymouse



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020), Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Gen, One Shot, Reno's potty mouth, Turks (Compilation of FFVII), Wordcount: 100-500, just for fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24233326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bouncymouse/pseuds/bouncymouse
Summary: A series of short insights into how the Turk's handle lockdown. This is just a bit of fun while I'm procrastinating. Rating for Reno's potty mouth.
Relationships: Elena & Tseng (Compilation of FFVII), Elena/Tseng (Compilation of FFVII)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 30





	1. A real drag

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a bit of one-shot fun because I've got a pretty heavy scene to write in the fic I'm working on and I'm procrastinating. Little scenes like this are useful for getting into the headspace of the characters, especially those I don't write that often. I originally posted this on the end of an old fic on fanfiction.net as an addition to an author note, but I tweaked it a bit and thought I'd repost it as a standalone.
> 
> Here in the UK we're midway through lockdown. I might make this into a series just for fun because I've got a Tseng/Elena idea forming in my mind as I type this.
> 
> Lockdown is obviously not canon in the FF: VII universe…

“But I’m soooo bored.”

Tseng stared at the paperwork in front of him. He silently prayed to any god that was willing to listen that his resolve should remain unshaken. He would not allow himself to rise to it.

There was a stapler on the desk, a mere flick of the wrist away from his left hand. It had weight to it. Throwing it at the lanky redhead that was currently sprawled on his sofa would be so _unbelievably_ satisfying.

He would _not_ rise to it.

Reno was laying upside down, his long legs crossed at the ankles and his head hanging off the edge of the seat. His pony-tail pooled on the floor beneath him. Tseng didn’t believe that anybody could possibly sit like that and be comfortable, but he’d been that way for some time now and didn’t appear to be about to move. His boots were leaving black marks on the wall.

Tseng closed his eyes. Perhaps when he opened them the last hour and a half would turn out to have been a bad dream.

“Lockdown sucks. Is this really necessary?”

He opened his eyes. Apparently the gods weren’t listening.

“The President wouldn’t have suggested it if it wasn’t.”

“It’s a pile of shit.”

He slid the top drawer of the desk open and dropped the stapler into it, firmly out of temptations way.

“Don’t you have paperwork to do?”

“Nope. Elena lost the poker game again.”

“Again?” He paused; no doubt he’d be hearing about that later on. “I’ve told her to stop playing with you.”

Reno shrugged, or at least tried to. It was made awkward by his position. “She’s bored too.”

“She never learns.”

“I know.” He grinned.

“I should stop from you betting your paperwork. You’re supposed to turn it in yourself.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Tseng stared at him, his elegant eyebrows raised.

“I do some of my own paperwork,” Reno replied haughtily. 

He shifted position, leaving another long black mark on the wall. Tseng grit his teeth.

“Does Rude need help with the Kalm dossier?”

“Haven’t seen him.” Reno frowned. “I think he’s avoiding me.”

“How strange…”

He deliberately missed the sarcasm. “I know ‘cause this lockdown thing is a real drag.”

“Maybe I could _find_ you some paperwork to do,” Tseng offered pointedly.

“No thanks.” He closed his eyes, smiled serenely and laced his long fingers behind his head.

A minute of blessed silence ticked by and Tseng dared to hope. He turned back to the report he’d been reading.

“What’re you doing?”

Hope dissolved, taking with it another slice of his patience. “Working.”

“Right.”

Reno stared at him. Tseng turned the page, deliberately ignoring him.

_Thud._

He drummed his fingers lightly on the paper in front of him.

_Thud._

His fingers curled into a fist.

 _Thud_.

He _would not_ rise to it.

_Thud._

“Will you _stop_!”

Reno stopped kicking the wall, his expression radiating blue-eyed innocence.

Tseng inhaled slowly. “The employee gym is still open. Perhaps you could go there instead?”

Reno fixed him a trademark smirk. “I know I said I was bored but I’m not _that_ bored.”


	2. Social distancing

It was late but Elena wasn’t surprised that the lights were still on in the Director’s office. He sat at his desk, chin propped on one elegantly manicured hand, reading through a sheaf of papers. She tapped on the door but didn’t wait for an invitation before she opened it.

She placed the manila folder in his in-tray.

“That’s the North Corel report. Shall I forward it on to the President or do you want to read it first?”

“I thought I’d assigned that one to Reno?” He didn’t look up from his reading.

The tips of her ears were burning. “I ah…offered to take it off his hands.”

“How kind of you.”

She tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, feeling guilty. She’d lost a bet to the infuriating redhead; if Tseng had an issue with her turning in one of his reports he probably wouldn’t appreciate the fact she’d be writing up the rest of the months too.

“If I had to offer you a word of advice…” He licked the tip of his finger and turned the page. “You might want to work on your poker face.”

“I’m going home,” she announced crisply, ignoring the jibe. “Is there anything else you need?”

He finally looked up from the paperwork, dark eyes narrowed. “Is that how you’re saying goodnight?”

“Yes,” she replied haughtily, fighting the urge to smile. “We’re social distancing, remember?”

He straightened up the pile of paper in front of him. “Remind me again how that works.”

“We have to keep a two metre distance at all times.”

“At all times?”

“Yeah.” She shifted her weight slightly, balancing on the balls of her feet; a challenge.

A sly grin especially for her. He stood up, hands flat on the desk in front of him. “Two metres?”

“Yeah… So you’d better stay on your side of the desk.” She skipped to the side as he lunged for her. “You’ve got to be faster than that, sir.”

“You’re very overconfident.”

“Am I?” She smirked and twisted left. His fingers grazed her arm. “That’s not two metres.”

“That wasn’t an issue this morning.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She replied breathlessly, almost knocking the in-tray over with her hip when he pounced again. “Director I really must insist you keep your distance.”

“If that’s how you want to play it…” He sank into his chair and retrieved her report from the tray “Goodnight, Elena.”

Disappointment hit her. She took an uncertain step towards him.

A polished boot caught the back of her ankle and practised hands caught her waist before she pitched backwards. Shrieking, she landed in his lap.

“See.” His lips grazed her earlobe. “Poker face.”

“Will I see you at home?”

“Yes.”

She giggled, sliding her fingers through his silky black hair and pulled his mouth to hers.


	3. Banana bread

“What the fuck is that?”

Reno scrutinised the thing in the box. It was squat, brown and smelt sickly sweet. He prodded it cautiously and his finger stuck to the greasy surface. He was pretty sure food wasn’t supposed to wobble like that.

Elena narrowed her eyes. “It’s banana bread.”

Rude’s expression mirrored his own scepticism. Behind the ever-present shades his eyebrows slanted into a frown. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why? I baked it.”

“ _You_ baked it?”

“Yes,” she replied haughtily.

“Elena…” He licked the sticky residue from the tip of his finger and shuddered. “Don’t take this the wrong way but…”

“You can’t cook,” said Rude, opting for blunt truth over diplomacy.

The blonde sat up straighter, crossing her arms over her chest. “Excuse me?”

“Remember the Korean barbecue plate?”

“There was nothing wrong with it!”

Reno groaned. “How can things be burnt on the outside and raw on the inside?”

“Tseng liked it.”

He exchanged a glance with Rude. The Director had to like it; he had a lot more riding on keeping her sweet than they did.

“I cooked sushi. You liked that.”

“You _cooked_ sushi?”

“Made sushi,” she mumbled.

“ _Bought_ sushi,” Reno corrected.

Her cheeks turned pink. “You’re just jealous because you can’t cook.”

He ruffled his fingers through his red hair. “I can make ramen.”

“All you have to do is boil water!”

“And?”

“I can cook,” said Rude. 

Reno grinned widely. “I have better things to do in my free time.”

“Women like men who can cook,” he pointed out.

“Women like me just fine.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard.” Elena smiled brightly.

He flipped her the bird.

“I like cooking,” said Rude. He removed his glasses and began polishing the lenses on his tie. “I’m not eating that though.”

“Fine!”

“I’ll give you ten gil if you do.” Reno grinned.

“You try to do something nice for people…”

“Twenty.”

“Fifteen?”

“You’re on.”

Elena snatched the container off the table, holding it to her chest. “If you guys don’t want any I’ll give it to Tseng.”

“I thought you were already giving it to him,” Reno deadpanned. Rude snorted loudly.

The sticky piece of cake hit him in the jaw. It landed wetly on the table in front of him.

He wiped the goo off his chin. “Really?”

Rude laughed. The next handful caught him straight in the face.

She brandished the container in one hand, another wet handful of batter clutched in her fingers.

“Now that’s just childish,” he yelped, ducking out of his chair. She hit him squarely on the back of the head.

“For fucks sake!”

Reno tried vainly to pull the sticky crumbs out of his hair. Rude joined him underneath the table. There was a greasy smudge on his sunglasses.

He stuck his head out and narrowly avoided another face-full of cake. “Cut it out.”

“Make me!”

Rude tossed his glasses on the floor and pulled another, cleaner pair out of his pocket.

Reno shook his head. “I blame you for this.”


End file.
